


Fuck Donald Trump

by loindici (almaia)



Category: British Royalty RPF, Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lolitics - Freeform, Make America Great Britain Again, Multi, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9488192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaia/pseuds/loindici
Summary: Melania Trump finally decides that she's had enough of her husband trying to get into the pants of every woman he meets and seeks for the Obamas' help in sabotaging his State Visit to the United Kingdom.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a result of the fact that I (along with a good number of people in the Lolitics fandom) found Donald Trump flirting at Theresa May very cringeworthy. Add in the fact that Trump is to make a State Visit to the UK later this year and I can only imagine that The Queen would probably raise hell on him at some point.
> 
> Disclaimer: The content of this work is purely fictional even if the characters are real life figures and some real life events are referenced to. No disrespect and political bias is intended by this work.

**September 2017 – Buckingham Palace**

“Your Majesty, I can assure you good relations between the United States and the United Kingdom. The _best_ relations! I know good relations and I have even established a special relationship with your Prime Minister, believe me!” Donald Trump said in the usual boastful tone.

It wasn’t helping that Her Majesty, the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland still wore an unimpressed look. One that said _I did not anticipate for this state visit to listen to my Foreign Minister’s long lost twin blabber about something he’s not even sure about._

“One must know the lengths that you take in order to ensure that you can maintain the good relations that our countries has.” The Queen stated. Oh, she wasn’t allowing this newly-elected reality show host-turned-President to scam her like he did to those poor Trump University students.

“Oh of course, Your Majesty!” Donald said, “It is such a _huge_ honor to be invited to an audience with you as part of this state visit.”

Whatever Donald Trump was planning to do behind the Throne Room’s doors, The Queen was already a step ahead of him.

**Three days ago…**

“Is this Barack Obama’s house?”

Michelle Obama was gobsmacked to see a panting Melania Trump on the door step. How on earth did Melania Trump even find out where they lived in Kalorama.

“Uh yes…” Michelle answered

“I know I shouldn’t be here but I really need to speak to your husband!” Melania said, distress being evident in her voice

Michelle decided to go all ears on the new First Lady who then said, “Mrs. Obama, I _really_ need your help! Have you seen all the horrible shit Donald has done? I’m legitimately fearing for the Queen of the United Kingdom. He might “grab her by the pussy”. ”

“I understand your concerns, really.” Michelle told her sympathetically, “But I’m sure your husband will be subdued even before he can try grabbing the Queen by the pussy.”

“No…no, you don’t understand!” Melania continued, “He’s been grabbing the pussy of his female aides and he’s obviously flirted with the British Prime Minister when she came to visit earlier this year and **_I AM HAVING NONE OF IT_**! I can’t have him continue to do that to every woman he comes across with.”

“Oh God, this is much worse than I thought.” Was all Michelle could say

“You bet it is!” Melania spoke

“You still want me to get Barack?”

“Is he there?”

Then Michelle proceeded to call Barack who was at the living room, busy trying to get Malia to start a conversation with him – just after she, Michelle, kicked him out of the garden. Barack has been bored ever since he stepped down from office as President of the United States.

Barack hurriedly rushed to the doorstep where she found a panting Melania Trump, “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I need your help, Mr. Obama!” Melania said, sounding like she is about to beg to the former President of the United States

“How can I help you?” Barack asked, genuinely sympathetic to Melania

“I need you to sabotage Donald. I don’t care how. Just sabotage him before he does anything to The Queen.” There was pure horror in Melania’s eyes and Barack knew exactly what to do.

“Melania, I got this.” Barack said as he fished his phone out of his pocket to dial a number

* * *

**The same day - Rideau Cottage, Ontario, Canada**

_You used to call me on my cell phone / Late night when you need my love / Call me on my cell phone / Late night when you need my love / And I know when that hotline bling / That can only mean one thing /I know when that hotline bling / That can only mean one thing_

Justin Trudeau was busy going through the paper work that he brought home when suddenly, he heard _Hotline Bling_ out of nowhere. It turned out that his cellphone was ringing! Hurriedly, he took his phone from his pocket and checked the screen – it was his _mon amour_ , Barack Obama.

“Bonjour, mon cher Président!” Justin happily said, “What made you call me?”

“Listen here, _darling_ ,” Barack said firmly – and oh, Justin could here Michelle laugh in the background

“Come on Barack, flirt with him later!” Melania shouted in the background, “I know you two are _so_ in love but we’ve got an issue here!”

“Anyway Justin, Melania Trump just showed up to my doorstep,” Barack proceeded, “She wants me to sabotage Trump when he visits The Queen. Dude I need your help.”

“Why me?” Justin whined

“Listen here Maple Boy! Unless you want Trump and the British Prime Minister to become an _item_ that would feed the ego of the fascists further, it’s time for you to intervene.” Barack said, his voice remaining to be firm, “What I mean to say is, try to get the British Prime Minister on board with this, will you? You are a commonwealth country, so is the UK – so to basically put it, keeping the Queen safe from Trump is your interest and hers.”

“Are you giving me away to the British Prime Minister now?” Justin was now pouting as he asked

“No Justin!” Barack said, “I still love you, I _really_ do. However, I am no longer a head of government, but she is. To simply put it, I am not in the position to ask her these things but you still are.”

“I-I love you too, _mon amour_!” Justin replied, “I won’t disappoint you.”

* * *

When the doors to the Throne Room had closed, the Queen instructed Donald Trump to kneel. Trump decided to go along, knowing that UK-US relations would be fucked if he pissed the Queen off. “I will be back in a moment. Stay where you are, Mr. Trump.” The Queen said.

Then the Queen went through a back door of the Throne Room.

And Trump was left waiting, in his knees. Seconds passed and turned into minutes – minutes turned into an hour. Then he heard the main door of the Throne Room open.

Footsteps were coming for him. He tried to stay as calm as possible. It must be someone who got the wrong room.

Then he felt a palm on his shoulder and leaning back to see whose hand could it be, he saw the British Prime Minister herself.

“Oh, hello Theresa!” Donald said in a seemingly flirtatious tone

“That’s Prime Minister May to you, _Donald_!” Theresa scowled as she kept her hold on Donald firm

“What brings you here, then?” Donald asked, trying to remain as ~professional~ as possible

“Her Majesty, the Queen sent me here.” She said with a knowing smirk, “And if you want to extend the _special relationship_ with her so badly, you must engage in hand-to-hand combat with my husband, and the Prince of Wales, and I.” And then she signaled for her husband to open the door, where Prince William, The Duke of Cambridge, made his entrance. This made Donald think that The Queen was underestimating the might of the United States.

But hey, who was he to say that when he is effectively in a position where if he makes one wrong move, The Queen could snap hard enough that she’d **_Make America Great Britain Again_**.

Reluctantly, Donald accepted the challenge posed to him by Theresa, on behalf of Her Majesty, The Queen, “Oh, you’d look like you’d bruise _beautifully_. The Queen would be so _pleased_ to hear about your defeat." 

Donald’s eyes widened, realizing what he just got himself into. He did not sign up to a 3 vs 1 battle fought merely with bare hands. He signed up to be the Leader of the Free World. He signed up to Make America Great Again, not Make America Great Britain Again.

But apparently, this isn’t the case.

He felt a foot kick his back, followed by the words – “Bow down, Donald. The Duke of Cambridge is in your presence.”

“Do I really **_have_ ** to?” Donald asked, desperation masking his once-domineering voice

“Yes, unless you want to return to the United States with no deal. You heard me, twat!” Nothing crushed Donald’s ego more than the woman he’s formed a “special relationship” with demoting him to a mere twat. A mere twat about to be turned into the Queen’s entertainment, into the punching bag of the Prime Minister and her husband.

Donald had no choice but to bow down to The Duke of Cambridge, even if his ego wouldn’t allow him to. His butt was clearly prominent now just as Philip May walked behind him. Hastily, Philip delivered a heavy kick on Donald's back, causing him to fall face first on the floor.

“Your turn, _darling_.” Philip said as Donald tried to get up. Theresa shot a menacing look at Trump’s Rump, ready to aim a kick towards it.

“What a bloody slut!” Theresa remarked as she kicked Donald Trump’s butt, “You really think you could get away with flirting at me when I came to Wahsington? Huh?!?” and another kick landed on his butt.

“Too bad you weren’t the lucky one whom my wife chose in 1970!” Philip taunted as he kicked Donald on the butt, “What is Melania going to say about this, whore?”

“I’m fortunate I didn’t have to go through choosing between you and this… _trashy tart!”_ And as Donald tried to get up again, a punch from Theresa May landed on his face. Philip laughed heartily, and was joined by his wife. Oh, Theresa looked so stunning as she laughed at Donald’s demise – and her husband found it stunning as well.

As Theresa continued to dodge Donald's punches, Prince William took his coat off. Then he proceeded to assume a fighting stance, “This is going to be _huge_ , believe me!” he said, imitating Donald’s manner of speaking.

“Don’t worry Donald, we’re just _preparing_ you. The Queen has more things in store.” Theresa said as she ruffled the poor American’s toupee.

Donald responded by moaning in pain, prompting Theresa to say, “Kick him on the balls, Philip!”

Philip complied and kicked Donald on the balls as Prince William punched his face. Theresa meanwhile, kicked Donald at the back as he was trying to dodge Philip and Prince William's punches and kicks. The fighting went more intense and so was Donald's attempts to defend himself. Theresa watched in delight in what she has created. A helpless Donald Trump – slowly beaten up into a pulp.

Philip then stopped landing punches and kicks on Donald. Swiftly, Prince William headbutted Donald as a finishing touch, leading to Donald falling to the ground back first. Theresa meanwhile, stared down at him, saying “Melania would be very disappointed in you. Moreover, the Republican Party will be _very disappointed_ with you. You can't defend yourself, or your country, even if it meant winning a fight against your ally.”

“I-I just wanted to reach out to post-Brexit Britain.” Donald said, sounding more broken than before.

“Well, this is the way things work around here, _bad hombre_.” Theresa said as he slapped Donald, “We could very well deport you right now if you don’t cooperate. I was Home Secretary, after all. I am more than capable of destroying your career if you try to play hooky with us.”

But, as usual, Donald didn’t know. Theresa _is always_ a step ahead. If he isn’t careful enough, he’ll end up with a dying political career – just like Andrea Leadsom (except Andrea was lucky that Theresa showed slight mercy on her by offering her a spot at the cabinet).

Once Prince William dusted off his top, he, Philip and Theresa left a Donald Trump covered in bruises. Moments later, the Queen returned to the Throne Room – a smirk on her face as she beckoned Kate Middleton in to take a picture of The Donald in his beaten up glory.

“You were saying about the nude pictures that the paps took of me while I was sunbathing?” Kate said as she proceeded to take pictures of Donald, who was now the personification of the United States' impending economic downfall.

“The Duchess of Cambridge doesn’t appreciate that _tweet_ you made of her.” The Queen said as she stared down at Donald condescendingly, “Also, the House of Windsor _sends their regards_.” The Queen added, now whispering to him.

* * *

**Obama Residence – Kalorama, Washington D.C., USA**

The Obamas, Trudeaus and Melania Trump were all together in the living room of the Obama Residence. This was because the Obamas and Trudeaus decided that Melania needed all the intervention and support from them.

Sophie poured a glass of wine and passed it over to Melania, who accepted the glass. Barack and Justin were meanwhile, busy cuddling. I mean come on, Barack missed Justin so much!

Justin’s phone suddenly rang and he hurriedly answered it, thinking that it was a call from one of his aides back in Canada, “Hello, this is Prime Minister Trudeau!”

“Justin.” The voice from the other line said, “We’ve taken care of Donald Trump. Kate Middleton, in particular, had a grand time trying to subdue him.”

“Prime Minister, I don’t even want to imagine what Kate Middleton did to her.” Justin said, “What exactly did you all do to her?”

“Justin dear, you need not to worry about how the Duchess of Cambridge dealt with him.” Theresa said soothingly, “What matters is that we’ve taken out Trump now. The Queen couldn’t be any more happier.”

“Gee…thanks Prime Minister!” Justin said as he visibly blushed. Oh, it’s been a few months since he and the British Prime Minister met again – but he still blushes at her like when they first met.

“Okay Justin, you can stop flirting at Theresa May now!” Barack said jokingly as his wife, Sophie and Melania laughed along.

“Yes Justin, we all know she’d give me a run for my money if she became a supermodel.” Melania quipped, “But you really look stupid right now.”

“Melania’s right, _mon amour_.” Sophie added, “We all know how beautiful she is but you look rather _unparliamentary_ right now.” At this point, they were all just poking fun at Justin’s reaction to receiving a call from the British Prime Minister.

“Sorry I blush when I see good looking people!” Justin exclaimed

“I heard that!” Theresa said, “I’ll have you know Justin did blush like an idiot when we first met at the G20 last year!” and now, Justin’s face went even more red. That was a fact coming from the woman he’s starting to have a crush on.

“Prime Minister, did he flirt at you? I must know!” Sophie said in a giddy voice

“He looked like he was about to,” Theresa replied, “However, my glare must have stopped him. We were there to discuss policies, not to exchange flirtation.”

“Oh my gosh!” Michelle reacted, “Mind you Prime Minister, you’re not alone. Barack also has that sort of a problem when he deals with Justin.”

“He couldn’t stop blushing like an idiot when we first met at the APEC Summit of 2015!” Barack piped up, “He still blushes like an idiot right now whenever he sees me.”

“Is this why you two don’t get anything done?” Theresa asked, the tone of her voice being obviously judgmental.

“Oh, don’t be mistaken Prime Minister. Our special relationship is very productive.” Justin reassured her, “Ours will be productive as well, I assure you!” and once again, Justin’s lips curled into a smile.

“Justin, darling. Do me a favor and don’t be such a pest.” Theresa said in a firm voice, “I appreciate your admiration for me, _but please_ , don’t blush like an idiot in front of me when others are looking. It makes you look like you’re undeserving of a second term.”

Instead, this made Justin blush even more, “I-I will keep that in mind, Prime Minister.”

“Goodbye, Justin.” She said, “Until we meet again.”

“Goodbye, Prime Minister” He said with a grin on his face. When the phone call ended, Sophie, Melania, Michelle and Barack clapped for him ironically.

* * *

**One week later – The White House**

Mike Pence angrily made his way to the Oval Office. After pictures of Donald Trump covered by bruises after losing a fight against the British Prime Minister, her husband, and the Duke of Cambridge made it to the front page of The Sun, he could not help but doubt his working relationship with the former reality TV show host.

Three strong knocks were all it took for Donald Trump to open the door to the office himself.

“Hello Mike!” Donald said calmly, “What brings you here?”

“This!” Mike said as he threw a copy of that day’s issue of USA Today with a beaten-up Trump on the front page, “Good luck running the United States by yourself, Donald J. Trump. I resign as your Vice president. I do not want to associate myself with a man who couldn't defend the United States' interests.”

“But Mike!” Donald said as he sunk on his knees

“Sorry Donny! We are over and…” Mike said, with rage in his eyes, “..looks like the wall between you and I _just got 10 feet taller_!”

And just like that, Mike slammed the door to the Oval Office closed. Donald could not help but start sobbing. First, the Queen of the United Kingdom whom he thought to be his close ally has put him in this situation. It wasn’t helping that the Prime Minister whom he thought was in good terms with him has turned her back on him.

And now, his own Vice President just resigned.

To put it in the words of YG and Nipsey Hussle, “Fuck Donald Trump!”

And fuck Donald Trump indeed.


End file.
